


Cruisin'

by nonamouse



Category: NSYNC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonamouse/pseuds/nonamouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris gets a new motorcycle and takes Justin for a ride. I wrote this, like, a million yeas ago under a different name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cruisin'

"That is positively heinous, dude."

Chris made a face, first at Justin and then at the arrangement of cat tails shellacked into a vase. "My mom gave that to me."

"Why?"

Chris shrugged. "I dunno. She said I needed something to cheer up the house." He regarded it for a moment. Fake leaves curling in eternal greenness. "But you're right, it is heinous." He sighed. "You ready to go?"

"Go where?" Justin queried.

Chris picked up a large stack of security envelopes and shook them under Justin's nose. "I need to go to the post office. Besides," He smiled. "I thought we might take my new bike for a test drive."

Justin's tongue flicked out and ran over his pale lips, and blue eyes sparkled. "You got a new bike?" He asked breathlessly.

Chris smiled and tossed Justin a helmet. "You bring your jacket?"

"Yeah." Justin replied, half bouncing with eager excitement.

Chris shrugged on his own jacket and snagged his keys. "Let's go then." He said, taking his helmet under his arm. "We're gonna have to leave soon if we wanna make it to the beach before it starts getting dark."

Justin didn't bother asking why Chris wanted to go to the beach. He just tucked himself into his helmet and followed the older man outside.

The bike was gorgeous. A Harley 1200s Sportster in vivid black. Justin knew this because he had spent hours flipping through motorcycle magazines, wishing for a bike like this one.

"What d'you think of her?" Chris asked, affectionately patting the tank.

Justin's eyes hungrily traced the chrome. "She's beautiful."

"I call her Florence."

Maybe it should have struck him as strange that Chris would name his bike. And Florence of all things. But it was Chris. And the name was somehow perfect.

"Florence." Justin repeated, loving the flow of the name on the curve of his lips. "That's real nice, Chris."

Chris beamed proudly and threw his leg over the bike. His heavily booted foot came down on the kick starter and it started right up. "Listen to 'er sing." He crowed over the roar of the engine, gunning it a few times for good measure. "Get on." Justin couldn't see Chris' mouth, but his eyes peered through the open visor and grinned enough for both of their mouths.

Justin threw his leg over the bike and threw his arms around Chris' waist. If it was too tight, Chris didn't say anything. He propped up the bike on his right foot and kicked up the kickstand and roared off.

Justin had never been on the back of a motorcycle before, and he found it painfully exhilarating to watch the pavement blur below them and the city blur on either side. Chris handled the bike expertly, even with the added weight of Justin's body on the back. Justin felt the bottom of his stomach drop each time Chris went swerving smoothly in and out of turns and curves, the bike tilting dangerously to the right or left but always righting itself at the last moment.

The trip to the post office would prove inconsequential and the city of Orlando quickly disappeared into the depthless flatness of the Florida- countryside? Justin wasn't sure what it should have been called, but it was a broad, expanse of lush, green nothing. Not that he had ever noticed it before. It seemed there were just some things that you couldn't see through the windows of a car.

And now Justin felt like he could count every leaf and palm frond. He could smell the heat rolling off the tar and the water evaporating. The oily, sweaty slick of Chris' jacket under his palms. He clutched tighter and lay his helmeted head against Chris' back.

The sweet tang of salt air stung Justin's nose and he dared to flip up his visor to breathe deeply. It was gorgeous.

"We-ost-ere!" He heard Chris shout over the roar of the wind.

Justin nodded, even though he had no idea what Chris had said, and pressed closer to Chris' back. The bike slid into a tiny, nameless beach front town. Someplace Justin's mother would have called quaint, in that stuck up big-city way she occasionally affected. Quaint, perhaps, but it was a nice change from the noise and smog of Orlando.

The bike slid to a stop and Chris pushed the kickstand down and slipped off his helmet. His hair slicked into the shape of the helmet made Justin glad that he had shaved off his curls, though all it took was a few quick swipes of Chris' hand, more or less, to fix it to its proper height and appropriate spikiness. He dismounted the bike and walked to stand against the railing on the boardwalk and stared out over the ocean with that thin lipped pensive gaze that Justin had only seen a few times before.

"Are you going to come down to the beach, or just stay on the bike?" Chris' sweet taffy voice floated back to Justin's ears.

Justin pulled off his helmet and climbed carefully off of the bike, striving not to knock it over. "I'm comin'." He replied, jogging a bit to catch up. "Why are we here?"

"Why not?" Chris asked, stripping off his jacket. "Seemed like a good idea."

Justin couldn't argue with that logic.

Chris dropped his jacket in the sand and dropped down next to it to strip off his boots and socks and rolled his pantlegs up. He buried his bare feet in the damp sand and took a deep breath. The beach was deserted, no screaming fans, no lawsuits, nobody taking pictures, shouting names, asking questions. It was almost eerie.

Justin sat next to Chris.

"Aren't you hot?"

Justin looked startled for a moment at Chris' uncharacteristically subdued demeanor. "Y-yeah." Justin replied, pulling off his jacket almost as an afterthought. He toed off his sneakers and dug his feet into the sand.

Chris grinned at him. "Man, your feet *stank*." He said gleefully.

"Fuck you!" Justin replied, kicking sand across Chris' feet.

"You first!" Chris answered, kicking back.

"Ass hole!" Justin said, pouncing and playfully wrestling Chris to the sand.

"Whole ass!" Chris retorted, pushing back against the press of Justin's hands. He managed to get the advantage, rolling them over and pinning Justin's arms above his head. "You give?"

"Never!"

"Fine then." Chris' lips curled up into a smile and his eyes snapped with pure mischief. "You're gonna have to take your licks then." He heaved Justin to his feet and wrapped his arms around the younger man's waist.

"Oh shit! Chris! Don't! I'll fucking kill you!"

Chris never listened to Justin before and he sure as hell didn't do it now. He managed to haul his prey clumsily into the surf, but he didn't count on Justin shifting his weight and dropping them both into the luke warm sea water.

Chris rolled slowly to his feet and shook himself. "Oh, you cock."

Justin grinned. "Revenge is a dish." He replied.

"Nah, dude. Gwen Stefani is a dish. Revenge is just good clean fun."

"I'll say." Justin reached out and grabbed ahold of the collar of Chris' soaking T-shirt, preparing to throw him back into the water.

"Dude, you're stretching it." Chris objected and wrapped his fingers around Justin's wrists. He tilted his head back and looked up at Justin's face. And then they were kissing.

Neither knew who instigated the kiss, and neither particularly cared. Lost in the silky, wet caress of each other's mouths. Justin's hands loosed themselves from their tight grip on thin cotton and pressed through Chris' hair. It was slightly sticky with gel and reeked of that not quite apple smell of Salon Selectives.

Chris' hands slid up Justin's arms and clutched at his shoulders. Justin felt like Chris was drinking him, as though Chris were dying and Justin was the only thing that would save him.

Chris was the one who broke the kiss first. He looked up at Justin, face flushed, lips bruised from kissing. "Oh my God." He murmured, a moment of panic flashing across his face. "I'm sorry, I-"

"No." Justin said quickly. "No, I liked it."

"You did?" Chris asked dumbly.

"Yeah, I did." 

-End


End file.
